A Victor of Salamis Part 61

"Not yet. We are from Styra on Euba; we expect the news daily. The armies are almost together."

"And where are they?"

"Near to Plataea."

That was all. The war-s.h.i.+p left the fishermen rocking in her wake, but again Themistocles drew his eyebrows close together, while Glaucon tightened the buckle on his belt. Plataea,-the name meant that the courier must traverse the breadth of Botia, and with the armies face to face how long would Zeus hold back the battle? How long indeed, with Democrates and Lycon intent on bringing battle to pa.s.s? The s.h.i.+p was more than ever silent as she rushed on the last stretch of her course. More men fell at the oars with blood upon their faces. The supernumeraries tossed them aside like logs of wood, and leaped upon their benches. Themistocles had vanished with Simonides in the cabin; all knew their work,-preparing letters to Aristeides and Pausanias to warn of the bitter truth. Then the haven at last: the white-stuccoed houses of Oropus cl.u.s.tering down upon the sh.o.r.e, the little mole, a few doltish peasants by the landing gaping at the great trireme. No others greeted them, for the terror of Mardonius's Tartar raiders had driven all but the poorest to some safe shelter. The oars slipped from numb fingers; the anchor plunged into the green water; the mainsail rattled down the mast. Men sat on the benches motionless, gulping down the clear air. They had done their part. The rest lay in the hands of the G.o.ds, and in the speed of him who two days since they had called "Glaucon the Traitor." The messenger came from the cabin, half stripped, on his head a felt skullcap, on his feet high hunter's boots laced up to the knees. He had never shone in more n.o.ble beauty. The crew watched Themistocles place a papyrus roll in Glaucon's belt, and press his mouth to the messenger's ear in parting admonition. Glaucon gave his right hand to Themistocles, his left to Simonides. Fifty men were ready to man the pinnace to take him ash.o.r.e. On the beach the _Nausicaa's_ people saw him stand an instant, as he turned his face upward to the "dawn-facing" G.o.ds of h.e.l.las, praying for strength and swiftness.

"Apollo speed you!" called two hundred after him. He answered from the beach with a wave of his beautiful arms. A moment later he was hid behind a clump of olives. The _Nausicaa's_ people knew the ordeal before him, but many a man said Glaucon had the easier task. He could run till life failed him. They now could only fold their hands and wait.

It was long past noon when Glaucon left the desolate village of Oropus behind him. The day was hot, but after the manner of Greece not sultry, and the brisk breeze was stirring on the hill slopes. Over the distant mountains hung a tint of deep violet. It was early in Bdromion.(14) The fields-where indeed the Barbarian cavalry men had not deliberately burned them-were seared brown by the long dry summer. Here and there great black crows were picking, and a red fox would whisk out of a thicket and go with long bounds across the unharvested fields to some safer refuge. Glaucon knew his route. Three hundred and sixty stadia lay before him, and those not over the well-beaten course in the gymnasium, but by rocky goat trails and by-paths that made his task no easier. He started off slowly. He was too good an athlete to waste his speed by one fierce burst at the outset.

At first his road was no bad one, for he skirted the willow-hung Asopus, the boundary stream betwixt Attica and Botia. But he feared to keep too long upon this highway to Tanagra, and of the dangers of the road he soon met grim warnings.

First, it was a farmstead in black ruin, with the carca.s.s of a horse half burned lying before the gate. Next, it was the body of a woman, three days slain, and in the centre of the road,-no pleasant sight, for the crows had been at their banquet,-and hardened though the Alcmaeonid was to war, he stopped long enough to cast the ceremonial handful of dust on the poor remains, as symbolic burial, and sped a wish to King Pluto to give peace to the wanderer's spirit. Next, people met him: an old man, his wife, his young son,-wretched shepherd-folk dressed in sheepskins,-the boy helping his elders as they tottered along on their staves toward the mountain. At sight of Glaucon they feebly made to fly, but he held out his hand, showing he was unarmed, and they halted also.

"Whence and whither, good father?"

Whereat the old man began to shake all over and tell a mumbling story, how they had been set upon by the Scythian troopers in their little farm near nophytae, how he had seen the farmhouse burn, his two daughters swung shrieking upon the steeds of the wild Barbarians, and as for himself and his wife and son, Athena knew what saved them! They had lost all but life, and fearful for that were seeking a cave on Mt. Parnes. Would not the young man come with them, a thousand dangers lurked upon the way? But Glaucon did not wait to hear the story out. On he sped up the rocky road.

"Ah, Mardonius! ah, Artazostra!" he was speaking in his heart, "n.o.ble and brave you are to your peers, but this is your rare handiwork,-and though you once called me friend, Zeus and Dike still rule, there is a price for this and you shall tell it out."

Yet he bethought himself of the old man's warning, and left the beaten way. At the long steady trot learned in the stadium, he went onward under the greenwood behind the gleaming river, where the vines and branches whipped on his face; and now and again he crossed a half-dried brook, where he swept up a little water in his hands, and said a quick prayer to the friendly nymphs of the stream. Once or twice he sped through fig orchards, and s.n.a.t.c.hed at the ripe fruit as he ran, eating without slackening his course. Presently the river began to bend away to westward.

He knew if he followed it, he came soon to Tanagra, but whether that town were held by the Persians or burned by them, who could tell? He quitted the Asopus and its friendly foliage. The bare wide plain of Botia was opening. Concealment was impossible, unless indeed he turned far eastward toward Attica and took refuge on the foothills of the mountains. But speed was more precious than safety. He pa.s.sed Scolus, and found the village desolate, burned. No human being greeted him, only one or two starving dogs rushed forth to snap, bristle, and be chased away by a well-sent stone. Here and yonder in the fields were still the cl.u.s.ters of crows picking at carrion,-more tokens that Mardonius's Tartar raiders had done their work too well. Then at last, an hour or more before the sunset, just as the spurs of Cithaeron, the long mountain over against Attica, began to thrust their bald summits up before the runner's ken, far ahead upon the way approached a cloud of dust. The Athenian paused in his run, dashed into the barren field, and flung himself flat between the furrows. He heard the hoof-beats of the wiry steppe horses, the clatter of targets and scabbards, the shrill shouts of the raiders. He lifted his head enough to see the red streamers on their lance tips flutter past. He let the noise die away before he dared to take the road once more. The time he lost was redeemed by a burst of speed. His head was growing very hot, but it was not time to think of that.

Already the hills were spreading their shadows, and Plataea was many stadia away. Knowledge of how much remained made him reckless. He ran on without his former caution. The plain was again changing to undulating foothills.

He had pa.s.sed Erythrae now,-another village burned and deserted. He mounted a slope, was descending to mount another, when lo! over the hill before came eight riders at full speed. What must be done, must be done quickly.

To plunge into the fallow field again were madness, the hors.e.m.e.n had surely seen him, and their sure-footed beasts could run over the furrows like rabbits. Glaucon stood stock still and stretched forth both hands, to show the hors.e.m.e.n he did not resist them.

"O Athena Polias," uprose the prayer from his heart, "if thou lovest not me, forget not thy love for h.e.l.las, for Athens, for Hermione my wife."

The riders were on him instantly, their crooked swords flew out. They surrounded their captive, uttering outlandish cries and chatterings, ogling, muttering, pointing with their swords and lances as if debating among themselves whether to let the stranger go or hew him in pieces.

Glaucon stood motionless, looking from one to another and asking for wisdom in his soul. Seven were Tartars, low-browed, yellow-skinned, flat of nose, with the grins of apes. He might expect the worst from these. But the eighth showed a long blond beard under his leather helm, and Glaucon rejoiced; the chief of the band was a Persian and more amenable.

The Tartars continued gesturing and debating, flouris.h.i.+ng their steel points right at the prisoner's breast. He regarded them calmly, so calmly that the Persian gave vent to his admiration.

"Down with your lance-head, Rukhs. By Mithra, I think this h.e.l.lene is brave as he is beautiful! See how he stands. We must have him to the Prince."

"Excellency," spoke Glaucon, in his best court Persian, "I am a courier to the Lord Mardonius. If you are faithful servants of his Eternity the king, where is your camp?"

The chief started.

"On the life of my father, you speak Persian as if you dwelled in Eran at the king's own doors! What do you here alone upon this road in h.e.l.las?"

Glaucon put out his hand before answering, caught the tip of Rukhs's lance, and snapped it short like a reed. He knew the way to win the admiration of the Barbarians. They yelled with delight, all at least save Rukhs.

"Strong as he is brave and handsome," cried the Persian. "Again-who are you?"

The Alcmaeonid drew himself to full height and gave his head its lordliest poise.

"Understand, Persian, that I have indeed lived long at the king's gates.

Yes,-I have learned my Aryan at the Lord Mardonius's own table, for I am the son of Attaginus of Thebes, who is not the least of the friends of his Eternity in h.e.l.las."

The mention of one of the foremost Medizers of Greece made the subaltern bend in his saddle. His tone became even obsequious.

"Ah, I understand. Your Excellency is a courier. You have despatches from the king?"

"Despatches of moment just landed from Asia. Now tell me where the army is encamped."

"By the Asopus, much to northward. The h.e.l.lenes lie to south. Here, Rukhs, take the n.o.ble courier behind you on the horse, and conduct him to the general."

"Heaven bless your generosity," cried the runner, with almost precipitate haste, "but I know the country well, and the worthy Rukhs will not thank me if I deprive him of his share in your booty."

"Ah, yes, we have heard of a farm across the hills at Eleutherae that's not yet been plundered,-handsome wenches, and we'll make the father dig up his pot of money. Mazda speed you, sir, for we are off."

"Yeh! yeh!" yelled the seven Tartars, none more loudly than Rukhs, who had no hankering for conducting a courier back into the camp. So the riders came and went, whilst Glaucon drew his girdle one notch tighter and ran onward through the gathering evening.

The adventure had been a warning. Once Athena had saved him, not perchance twice,-again he took to the fields. He did not love the sight of the sun ever lower, on the long brown ridge of Helicon far to west. Until now he scarce thought enough of self to realize the terrible draughts he had made upon his treasure-house of strength. Could it be that he-the Isthmionices, who had crushed down the giant of Sparta before the cheering myriads-could faint like a weary girl, when the weal of h.e.l.las was his to win or lose?

Why did his tongue burn in his throat as a coal? Why did those feet-so swift, so ready when he sped from Oropus-lift so heavily?

As a flash it came over him what he had endured,-the slow agony on the _Bozra_, the bursting of the bands, the fight for life, the scene with Themistocles, the sleepless night on the trireme. Now he was running as the wild hare runs before the baying chase. Could it be that all this race was vain?

"For h.e.l.las! For Hermione!"

Whilst he groaned through his gritted teeth, some malignant G.o.d made him misstep, stumble. He fell between the hard furrows, bruising his face and hands. After a moment he rose, but rose to sink back again with keen pain shooting through an ankle. He had turned it. For an instant he sat motionless, taking breath, then his teeth came together harder.

"Themistocles trusts me. I carry the fate of h.e.l.las. I can die, but I cannot fail."

It was quite dusk now. The brief southern twilight was ending in pale bars of gold above Helicon. Glaucon rose again; the cold sweat sprang out upon his forehead. Before his eyes rose darkness, but he did not faint. Some kind destiny set a stout pole upright in the field,-perhaps for vines to clamber,-he clutched it, and stood until his sight cleared and the pain a little abated. He tore the pole from the ground, and reached the roadway.

He must take his chance of meeting more raiders. He had one vast comfort,-if there had been no battle fought that day, there would be none before dawn. But he had still weary stadia before him, and running was out of the question. Ever and anon he would stop his hobbling, take air, and stare at the vague tracery of the hills,-Cithaeron to southward, Helicon to west, and northward the wide dark Theban plain. He gave up counting how many times he halted, how many times he spoke the magic words, "For h.e.l.las! For Hermione!" and forced onward his way. The moon failed, even the stars were clouded. A kind of brute instinct guided him. At last-he guessed it was nearly midnight-he caught once more the flas.h.i.+ngs of a shallow river and the dim outlines of shrubbery beside the bank-again the Asopus. He must take care or he would wander straight into Mardonius's camp. Therefore he stopped awhile, drank the cool water, and let the stream purl around his burning foot. Then he set his face to the south, for there lay Plataea. There he would find the h.e.l.lenes.

He was almost unconscious of everything save the fierce pain and the need to go forward even to the end. At moments he thought he saw the mountains springing out of their gloom,-Helicon and Cithaeron beckoning him on, as with living fingers.

"Not too late. Marathon was not vain, nor Thermopylae, nor Salamis. You can save h.e.l.las."

Who spoke that? He stared into the solitary night. Was he not alone? Then phantasms came as on a flood. He was in a kind of euthanasy. The pain of his foot had ceased. He saw the Paradise by Sardis and its bending feathery palms; he heard the tinkling of the Lydian harps, and Roxana singing of the magic Oxus, and the rose valleys of Eran. Next Roxana became Hermione. He was standing at her side on the knoll of Colonus, and watching the sun sink behind Daphni making the Acropolis glow with red fire and gold. Yet all the time he knew he was going onward. He must not stop.

"For h.e.l.las! For Hermione!"

At last even the vision of the Violet-Crowned City faded to mist. Had he reached the end,-the rest by the fields of Rhadamanthus, away from human strife? The night was ever darkening. He saw nothing, felt nothing, thought nothing save that he was still going onward, onward.

At some time betwixt midnight and dawning an Athenian outpost was pacing his beat outside the lines of Aristeides. The allied h.e.l.lenes were retiring from their position by the Asopus to a more convenient spot by Plataea, less exposed to the dreaded Persian cavalry, but on the night march the contingents had become disordered. The Athenians were halting under arms,-awaiting orders from Pausanias the commander-in-chief. The outpost-Hippon, a worthy charcoal-burner of Archarnae-was creeping gingerly behind the willow hedges, having a well-grounded fear of Tartar arrows.

Presently his fox-keen ears caught footfalls from the road. His s.h.i.+eld went up. He couched his spear. His eyes, sharpened by the long darkness, saw a man hardly running, nor walking, yet dragging one foot and leaning on a staff. Here was no Tartar, and Hippon sprang out boldly.

"Halt, stranger, tell your business."